


The Memories Lost

by null02255



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:45:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/null02255/pseuds/null02255
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were six months between the massacre in Edonia that had killed all of the men Chris led, and the outbreak in China. In those six months, Chris drank and worked for hire. This is his story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Memories Lost

I remember waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages, IV needles and the smell of medicine and alcohol in the air in a cold sweat… that’s all I remembered. I felt sick, I felt like I didn’t belong here, all I wanted was to be gone. I could remember my name at least. Chris, Chris Redfield. I glanced around and found it was night time. I was in Edonia… the name brought hurt and I wasn’t sure why. That nightmare… I could recall the names and faces of men for now, but as I tried to remember, it only brought about a sense of crushing regret, depression… bitter anger. I had to go. I had to get out of here. I needed to go now. I got up out of the bed and found my ribs and my back ached, but if I could find something for the pain, I could take it with me before I left. I had to go, nothing about this place brought me any sense of peace.  
On my way out, I grabbed what clothes that fit me from a drawer with my name on it… it was cold in Edonia, I remembered that much at least. I even had money. That was enough for a hotel. Soon, I was gone, I had to get going somewhere else. I left my hospital gown by the door once I changed. I was soon on my way out towards the door to a place that was probably a lot better than here. 

Hours of roaming had finally led me to a hotel. I could stay here for a while. The bottle of pain killers I took would help me out a bit. Norco… You’re supposed to take one every six hours or something like that. That would do… it’d help put me to sleep anyway. 

As I got checked in, and got into my room, I took a pill, drank some water from the bathroom sink, and immediately collapsed onto the bed. I was better off here. I was growing nauseous from the pill now, but that was fine… Just give in to the sleep and let it take me. 

“Finn! No, no god damn it! Fight it Finn! I’m gonna get you out! Don’t you die!” That voice was my own… it sounded like mine as I watched the familiar man before me shifting, crying, writhing as he froze in time, within a morbid chrysalis of vile and foul smelling ooze that solidified once it reached the open air. He begged me not to let him die. But the bars… the damned bars were in the way! 

The morning came on suddenly, much like the nightmare, and I was much less in a drugged up state… I needed to call someone… but who? Maybe my sister… probably not… I needed to get some work in.

Over the period of the next month, I healed my wounds, I took my pills, and I worked in and out of odd jobs, mostly bodyguard work for rich Edonian folk. They’d taken to calling me the Black Dog since I’d been just going in and out of the same damn bar every night and day. It was easy… beat some punks, escort the rich, get paid, get some nice booze from a bar, go to the hotel, pass out, repeat… soon, my nightmares were losing context, what did they mean… I wasn’t sure anymore. Someone had called the hotel trying to reach me, and I wondered who it was… it wasn’t important; probably just Claire or someone from my old job. I took a breath and rubbed the stress away from my face. Another day, another dollar. Another nightmare, another bottle of vodka to help me sleep.


End file.
